Storyweaver
by Archangela213
Summary: It was that day the storyteller came into his dreams, never showing her face but allowing snippets of a tale to be woven...'How can I not love this man once called Nanashi'


_Greetings everyone from the freezing cold state of Vermont! This is my second fanfic on and I can only hope this goes better then the first one (which was short lived due to the lack of reviews). Please, read on and let me know what you think. Grammar and vocab aren't my strong points, just to let you know: I'm a Meteorology major and a physics minor._

_Before you continue, the normal disclaimer applies: I do not own Mobile Suit Gundam Wing and characters within it, nor do I own religion. I do own, however, Hell's Hold -Citadel Entrance and everything that surrounds Archangela. Please, don't take her without permission. My ideas are what keep me alive at college and I don't make money off this. If I did, I wouldn't be owing $54,000 to the Vermont College System!_

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Personally, a life not known is actually pretty fun. I mean, come on, if you aren't known you can cause so much mayhem and no one would be the wiser. I have seen much in my many years of what some call "life"; personally, I would call it an existence. You see, I wasn't born – I was created. You might be confused right now, asking yourself in the back of your mind, "How can one be created?" Well, you can and I am proof of this.

My soul, or what you may consider one, was built upon with a base of stone, one of unadulterated clarity and brilliance. 'Adamas', if I recall correctly, is what the race of humans called Greeks called this stone, meaning invincible: in modern times it is called diamond. I say its me who created the trend of this diamond thing, I mean – I'm special and diamond is special! With the stone chipped to show fire, a strand of gold, wrought to a fine filament, was twisted around the base. I guess that it was fought over and as two entities reached for it I came to be.

My first memory wasn't of this, strangely enough. I have memories beyond, this time of dark and light, pulsating around my undefined form. Then came a metaphorical 'poof' and there I was – staring at two men who I would soon learn to be Uncle Lucifer and The Big Man, who really hates that name but I call him it anyways. I was created with my eyes of brilliant gold to match The Big Man's and hair deeper then darkness to match the unruly locks of Uncle.

By now, I am sure you are more confused then ever. Uncle Lucifer: wasn't Lucifer the name of the fallen angel removed from Heaven by Michael the Archangel and banished? Sure is kiddos. He is the same man. The Big Man, I am sure as you are now probably figuring out is the being called God to humans. Neither were happy with each other at that moment, but believe it or not – despite what that thick book tells you – they didn't really hate each other. Light cannot exist without darkness, so it was more of a coexistence for the both of them. Though I will say, The Big Man was expecting a male figure while Uncle didn't really care…Oh well, I can't help the way I came.

So, this was my first moment of physical existence and boy was that fun. I gained my wings that day, as well as my name and throne. The throne, that would be the Throne to Hell's Hold, Citadel of my own. This makes me royalty. A Queen. My wings, despite some groaning from The Big Man, were white with specs of pink, blue and the finest sheen of gold. The gold, as I was told later on, would take over as I entered Heaven and outfitted as part of the army under the Archangel Michael. Uncle, to counteract the "holiness", also gave me the gift of an alternate form: golden skin and wings of a draconic. Happy, would be an understatement when this occurred, I felt things for the first time and happiness was one of them. Love was another for my 'fathers'. The Council were the ones who agreed on my physical creation. The Council, members of a higher order decided who lived, died and what big things went on in the infinite number of dimensions and universes that existed. It was then I was fated to travel to places far and many to act as a source of information and strength and so began my existence as Queen of Hell and the unknown female archangel.

I laugh when I think of how much trouble I caused being an archangel…I suppose if you have read the literature of any famous writer, the angel Gabriel has appeared and is described as female. Female? Him? I laugh again. The angel they describe is little old me in disguise. Yep, Gabriel is as masculine as the rest of 'em. So now, he is stuck considered an effeminate angel and I am gleefully joyous about the mayhem. This is my beginning of my long and tumultuous existence of being and not being and with this role I go place to place learning and teaching…And for you, if suddenly you meet a woman with Hell-pitch hair and eyes like the sun: my name is Archangela.

* * *

He flung himself out of bed, looking around for the soft-spoken storyteller that had been haunting his dreams. The narrow bed squeaked as his green eyes scanned the trailer he called home. Utilitarian based, it was sparsely decorated and dark due to the ungodly hour of his rising

"Archangela…" He murmured in a rarely used voice, before falling back onto his pillows and looking at the bedside table. On it was a framed picture of himself and the four other men he could call his friends; Catherine has taken it one day when none of them had been paying attention. Duo Maxwell, braid clutched to his chest, was curled on the grass – laughing hysterically as Heero Yuy ran away from the swarm of bees that decided he was a threat to their hive, despite it being Duo and Chang Wufei who had disturbed them. Quatre Raberba Winner was trying to diplomatically hold in his laughter while he, Trowa Barton – otherwise known to Catherine as Triton – just smiled in humor from his post against the massive oak.

It was that day he had discovered the large golden feather, resting in front of the black frame. The molten object was on the ground, glowing under the sun. He couldn't bare for it to be trampled, so he pocketed it, and it was that day the storyteller came into his dreams, never showing her face but allowing snippets of a tale to be woven. His eyes were heavy, and the need to continue on with the story, drove him to sleep once more.

* * *

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. A wise man once said that to me when I asked about love. Love of a father is something unconditional, much like the love for Uncle and the Big Man, but the love of a mortal man is something I was never taught – nor was expecting.

You see, my Love had never seen me; I could only watch from the background has he fought in a war for revolution – for freedom and finally settle down for a quiet life. I saw behind the mask many said he wore and fell in love with what I could see. I saw a man who only had one true family member left in the world and four friends to call his own and only wanted to find his place in the world. How could I stop myself from falling? The Big Man told me to keep an objective view. Uncle Lucifer told him to stuff it and told me I could love who I liked. And love I do. I love him. His eyes the darkest jade and hair like the earth…How can I not love this man once called _Nanashi._

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Please review and I'll continue on!

_JJ_


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